CIC Section 7

From Shaking to Surviving Life’s Seismic Shifts: How to Step Forward When the Ground Feels Shaky

Or, Why Surfing Lessons Are Cheaper Than Therapy (And Other Life Hacks)

Aim: Transition to action with sustainable, incremental steps.

• ✅ Implement the “5% Rule” to bypass resistance to change.
• ✅ Outsmart the brain’s aversion to new habits with neuroscience-backed hacks.
• ✅ Envision a post-crisis future and commit to small, non-negotiable actions.

The Day Louise Tried to Surf Herself Way Out of a Life Crisis

I’ll let my friend Louise tell her story:

“It’s 2021. The world is halfway between apocalypse and whatever comes after, and I’m standing on a Hawaiian beach at 7 AM, clutching a surfboard like it’s the last flotation device on the Titanic. My instructor, a sun-bleached philosopher named Kai who looks like he was born from the ocean itself, squints at me through eyes that have seen a thousand perfect waves and says, “Look, brah, you don’t wait for calm waters, yeah? Life doesn’t work that way. You grab the board and you hit the waves.”

I nodded as if this made perfect sense, while secretly wondering if I could fake a sudden ankle injury without looking too obvious.

Spoiler alert: I did not gracefully ride the waves like the majestic beach goddess I’d envisioned when booking this “transformative experience.” Instead, I ate more sand than a toddler in a sandbox, swallowed enough saltwater to pickle my insides, and discovered muscles I didn’t know could ache in places I didn’t know existed.

But here’s what I learned: Progress isn’t about stability—it’s about accepting that the ground beneath you might never feel completely solid again, and that’s not just okay—it might be the whole point.

Your Life Quake left the ground beneath you unstable. The familiar terrain cracked open. The map you’ve been following suddenly shows territories marked “Here Be Dragons.” That’s okay. Let’s build a bridge to help you move forward anyway, one plank at a time, even if those planks sometimes feel like they’re floating on Jell-O.

Part 1: The “5% Rule” (Or, How to Outrun Your Inner Pessimist)

Why Tiny Actions Beat Grand Gestures

Your brain, that magnificent three-pound universe between your ears, is an absolute drama queen. It hears the word “change” and immediately panics like you’ve suggested climbing Everest in dollar-store flip-flops while carrying a piano. “You want to do WHAT? Start a business? Learn Portuguese? Write a novel? Are you TRYING to kill us?” it screams, while frantically setting off internal alarm systems and has you reaching for the emergency chocolate.

This is where the 5% Rule comes in—the antidote to your brain’s tendency to catastrophise. The principle is beautifully simple: Commit to actions so small, so ridiculously achievable, that your brain doesn’t even bother to mount a resistance campaign. We’re talking changes so tiny they barely register on the Richter scale of life disruption.

When I first heard about this concept, I thought it was insulting. “I’m in a full-blown existential crisis, and you want me to celebrate sending one email?” But that’s exactly the point. Your life collapsed. You’re rebuilding from scratch. You wouldn’t expect someone recovering from surgery to run a marathon, so don’t expect yourself to hit-the-(still shaking)-ground-running immediately.

Here are some examples from Protocol graduates who 5%-ed their way to remarkable places:

Clara, who used to write corporate copy that made her soul wither with each keystroke, started by writing one angry haiku a day. Just seventeen syllables of pure, uncensored feeling. “Some days all I managed was ‘Meetings make me die / My boss’s voice hurts my teeth / Where’s the exit door?'” she told me, laughing. “But it was mine. It was real.” A year later, she had enough poems for a chapbook titled “Corporate Haiku: Syllables of Quiet Rebellion.” She sold it on Etsy. Then at local bookstores. Now she teaches “Writing as Liberation” workshops on weekends while transitioning to full-time creative work.

Dave, a metal-loving math tutor, applied the 5% Rule to his musical skills. “I was so intimidated by these shredder guitarists on YouTube that I’d just watch videos instead of playing,” he admitted. “So I committed to learning just one new guitar riff a week. That’s it. One riff. By the end of the year, I knew fifty-two riffs, which was enough to start creating my ‘Rockstar of Fractions’ curriculum. The kids think I’m some kind of guitar god now, which is hilarious because all that I really am is just a guy who didn’t quit.”

The science behind this approach is solid: Tiny actions create new neural pathways in your brain without triggering its threat-detection system. Neuroplasticity—your brain’s ability to reorganise itself—works best when changes are introduced gradually. It’s like sneaking vegetables into a toddler’s mac and cheese—they’re getting nutrition without needing to throw a tantrum about it.

Part 2: Why Your Brain is a Stubborn Old Mule (And How to Trick It)

The Neuroscience of Resistance

Your brain’s basal ganglia—the part responsible for habit formation—absolutely loves routines. It’s the neurological equivalent of an elderly cat that has found the perfect sunny spot on the couch and has no intention of moving, ever. When you try to establish new patterns, it reacts like that same cat being lowered into a bathtub—all claws and indignation.

This isn’t your brain being difficult for the fun of it. It’s trying to conserve energy. From an evolutionary standpoint, routines are efficient. They require less glucose, less processing power. Your brain is essentially saying, “We’ve survived this long doing things the old way, why risk a new approach?” It’s not being malicious; it’s just being extremely careful.

But you can hack this system. You can trick your brain into cooperating with your evolution instead of sabotaging it at every turn.

The first hack is habit stacking—tying new actions to existing routines that are already on autopilot. Your brain already knows to brush your teeth every night (I hope). So piggyback on that established neural pathway by thinking, “After I brush my teeth, I’ll journal one sentence about my day.” The old habit becomes the trigger for the new one, creating a seamless transition that meets less resistance.

Next, reward the mule. Your brain operates on a sophisticated reward system that’s easily bribed with the right incentives. After completing even the smallest step toward your goal, give yourself a micro-reward that releases dopamine—that delicious neurochemical that makes your brain say, “Hey, that felt good. Let’s do it again.” Maybe it’s blasting “Eye of the Tiger” and performing a living room air-guitar solo. Maybe it’s five minutes of guilt-free scrolling through dog videos. The reward doesn’t have to be big; it just has to be immediate and enjoyable.

Finally, reframe “failure” as data collection. Miss a day of your new habit? Instead of diving into self-flagellation, simply note it with curiosity: “Interesting. I didn’t write today. What was different about this day?” This isn’t just positive thinking fluff; it’s practical neuroscience. Beating yourself up activates your amygdala’s threat response, making you less likely to try again. Curiosity, on the other hand, engages your prefrontal cortex, keeping you in a problem-solving mindset rather than a shame spiral.

Your Journal Prompts: Time to Build Your Bridge

“What’s One 5% Action You’ll Take This Week?”

Start by identifying a goal that feels overwhelming or a change you’ve been postponing. Maybe it’s launching a side hustle, learning a language, or even having a difficult conversation. Write it down in all its intimidating glory.

Now, break it down into a 5% step. If your goal is “launch a side hustle,” your 5% might be “research one business name” or “email three friends for feedback on my idea.” If your goal is “learn Spanish,” your 5% might be “download a language app” or “learn five food-related words.”

Finally, schedule it with military precision. “I’ll do this on Tuesday at 7:30 PM while waiting for my laundry to finish.” Being vague about when you’ll take action is setting yourself up for procrastination. Your future self is just as busy and resistant as your current self, so don’t leave it up to them to decide when to act.

“The Resistance Autopsy”

Think about a time when you strongly resisted a change that, in retrospect, was clearly good for you. Maybe it was leaving a toxic job, ending a relationship that wasn’t serving you, or trying something that scared you but ultimately expanded your life.

What story was your brain telling you at the time? What were you afraid would happen? Write it down exactly as your inner critic phrased it: “I’ll look stupid. I’m too old for this. No one will take me seriously. I’ll fail and everyone will know.”

Now, write a rebuttal from your future self—the one who took the leap and survived. What would they say to your scared past self? “Dear Terrified Me, Remember when you thought surfing was impossible? When you were sure you’d drown or get eaten by sharks or—worst of all—look ridiculous? Now you’re the one laughing on the board, helping other beginners find their balance. The thing you feared became the thing that freed you.”

This exercise builds your “evidence library” that change, while uncomfortable, has historically been survivable and often leads to growth you couldn’t have imagined from the other side.

A Pep Talk for the Still-Shaking

You might be thinking right now: “What if I don’t make it? Shouldn’t I wait until I feel more confident/the economy improves/Mercury is out of retrograde/insert-excuse-here?”

Kai, the surf guru with the patience of a saint, put it best after watching Louise faceplant for the fifteenth time: “You don’t get good by watching waves, brah. You get good by getting wet. And occasionally puking saltwater.”

The same is true for your post-quake rebuild. You won’t find your footing by theorising about solid ground. You find it by testing different terrains, wobbling spectacularly, adjusting your stance, and trying again.

So if you take nothing else from this section, take this: Start now. Start tiny. Start messy. But for the love of all things purposeful, start.

What’s Next? (Spoiler: It’s Not a Straight Line)

You’ve survived the quake.

The How to Survive a Life Quake course was your survival kit, the emergency supplies to get you through to the immediate aftermath.

How do you feel now? Exhausted? Perfectly normal.

You know it’s time to rebuild, you just can’t manage to motivate yourself to get going.

The Purpose Protocol Progam will provide all the motivation you need.

Knowing your life purpose can serve as a guiding light during the tumultuous aftermath of a “life quake.” Having a clear sense of purpose provides a rock-solid foundation upon which to rebuild your life. It offers a sense of direction and helps you prioritise actions that align with your core values. This clarity can transform an overwhelming challenge into an opportunity for extensive growth. By grounding yourself in your purpose, you can navigate uncertainty with great resilience, make decisions that support your long-term plans, and find the motivation to persevere through this difficult time, despite any unexpected aftershocks.

But first, take a moment to celebrate this milestone: You’ve done the bravest thing—you’ve stopped waiting for the ground to stop shaking and you’re moving forward. In a world obsessed with certainty, that’s nothing short of revolutionary.

P.S. Just a quick reminder: If you would like some support while you work through this program, you can book one or more coaching sessions with me (dr Margaretha Montagu) for inspiration, motivation and accountability (additional cost). Send an email to OpenLockedDoors@gmail.com to find out more. Most people book a coaching session at the end of the course, to help then implement what they have learned. Also, if at any time during this program you get stuck, email me at the email address above.